Famous Last Words
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: Can Don and Charlie survive their worst trial yet? How will the team handle it? Complete! Prequel to Par Nobile Fratrum. READ BEFORE PNF!
1. Time Ticks On

_ **Disclaimer- If I owned NUMB3RS... why would I be here? I'd be writing plots for the show, not you people. (Although I wouldn't mind owning Charlie!)**_

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_ How long has it been?_, Don wondered, _How long have we been trapped here?_

, Don wondered, 

He strained to turn his head to find Charlie. The space was small and cramped and just barely afforded room for the two men. Not that Don could see Charlie very well. It was very dark, and Don felt dizzy from the pain in his shoulder. Having a dislocated shoulder was bad enough, but he had to reset it himself. However, his little brother was what worried him the most. Charlie had not said a word since the incident, and Don had no idea what kind of injuries his baby brother had.

_ I don't even know if he's still alive…_

His vision was going; he was tired. He knew he shouldn't even shut his eyes, but couldn't help it. They fluttered shut.

_Flashback_

Don was walking into the old building, Charlie and the team close behind. Strange music floated through the air, followed by a sinister which giggled maniacally, then said, "Bye-bye, FBI!" Don bellowed for everyone to get out, then ran for Charlie (who was on the other side of the room). He was too late; he heard it above.

The ceiling crashed around them from the explosions above their heads. He vaguely heard Charlie's cry of pain right beside him. He and his brother crouched on the floor, clutching each other for dear life as the wood crashed around them. That was at three o'clock. Suddenly, Charlie went limp in his arms, and Don soon followed.

He awoke what felt a short time later to severe pain in his shoulder, and he could tell it was dislocated; he'd done it once before. He called Charlie's name and received no answer.

_ Great_, he thought, _I'll have to put it back myself._

He let out a scream as it popped back into place, half hoping it prompt Charlie to speak. Don panted heavily while he waited for the other man's voice, but it never came. Now, he had no idea how long he and his brother had been in this dark, cramped hole. He wasn't even sure if Charlie was still alive…

_Charlie's PoV_

Charlie wasn't quite sure what was going on when the evil voice spoke over the intercom. One second, he heard the voice, then Don was bellowing for everyone to get out. He spun around to find his older brother running toward him as an explosion rocked the ceiling. Don grabbed Charlie and pulled him close as the ceiling caved in. A piece of debris hit his back; he let out a cry of pain. The two were forced into a crouch as the building collapsed about them. Suddenly, Charlie felt immense pain in his head, and everything went black.

When he awoke, he assumed it was hours later. His head throbbed, and when he tried to move, he let out a quick scream; hi leg was killing him. Don's voice came out of the darkness.

"Charlie! Charlie, what's wrong? Where are you?"

"Over here. My leg hurts real bad. It might be broken."

He heard Don crawling over to him, then felt his hand on his own. Don fumbled through his pockets (at least Charlie thought he did) and pulled out a tiny flashlight. It lit up the tiny space and almost blinded Charlie. Each brother's breathing was ragged. Don shone the flashlight all around their tiny refuge, resting it on Charlie's injured leg.; he gave a small gasp.

"Charlie… your… your leg's a mess. It's all bloody," he whispered.

Charlie, who was on his back, pushed himself into a sitting position, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"How long have we been down here?" he asked.

He watched as Don turned the light on his watch and swallowed. Don was silent.

"Well… how long?"

"It's… uh… it's been six hours."

Charlie's heart sank. Six hours. He'd have thought Don's team would dig through the debris themselves to find the brothers, but they'd been in the hole for a quarter of a day. He groped in his pocket for his cell phone and flipped it open only to see that he didn't have service. Yet he stared at the screen until it went black, stared into the eyes of the picture of Amita. Tears started to blur his vision, and his throat burned.

_Don's PoV_

"Don… will someone come for us? To save us?"

He looked at his little brother incredulously.

"Of course. The team'll come back for us. Don't worry."

"I don't wanna die, Don. I… I wanna see Amita again, and Dad, and Larry, and everyone else. I d-don't wanna d-die. Donnie…"

Charlie broke down and cried. Don put his good arm around him and let him cry into his shoulder. He felt so helpless that it was all he could do. He couldn't make any promises or make sure he could get his team there to help him. He could only comfort Charlie as he sobbed. He gently touched his brother's face to find it was colder than normal. When Charlie stopped crying, Don whispered, "Charlie… buddy… I need to look at your leg. Okay? Just be still."

He very gently pushed up Charlie's right pantleg; Charlie whimpered. Don fought back a gasp when he looked at Charlie's leg. It was clearly broken, something white peeking through the skin, the wound seeping blood.

_ No wonder he's colder than normal_, Don thought, _He's been slowly losing blood since the collapse. I wish you guys would hurry up and get here. We have less time than you think._

Don had no idea as to how much time they had, but he _knew_ Charlie had less time.


	2. It's Hard To Say

_**Disclaimer: (see previous chapter)**_

_**Author's note: Someone questioned what Charlie was doing at a raid, and I suppose I should clarify. It wasn't really a raid, per se. It was where the suspect did most of his dirty deeds, and Charlie was going to put together an equation or something. Oh... and for this chapter... I'm not quite sure what kind of black SUVs they actually drive, so I just made them Expeditions. Feel free to correct me. Enjoy!**

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Colby's PoV

Colby, Megan, and David stared blankly at the pile of rubble, unsure of what to do. Colby, after almost a minute of just looking at the debris, pulled off his suit jacket and began rolling up his sleeves. He'd find Don and Charlie if he was here all week.

"What are you doing?" Megan asked.

"I'm gonna find 'em. Come on. Help me out."

"Colby, come on, man. You know that's not safe. We have to wait for the professionals to come," David said, "We placed the call. All we can do is wait."

"I can't wait while Don and Charlie may be dying!"

"Colby! Come with me to tell Mr. Eppes what's happened," Megan said loudly, "I don't think I can do it by myself."

Agent Granger scowled, picked his jacket up off the ground, and stormed toward the black SUVs. He climbed in to the passenger seat of the nearest Expedition. Fear gnawed at him more fiercely than it had since he'd been in the military; his old enemy was back. It was an old, familiar fear, fear that his friends' lives were in danger, that they would die. He told himself that they would be fine, yet the doubt crept in.

_ No_, he thought, _Don'll take of the Whiz Kid. That's his little brother. He never lets anything bad happen to him. And he can take of himself. They'll be fine_.

Megan got in and started it up.

"You okay, Colby?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm just not looking forward to having to tell Mr. Eppes that _both_ his sons' lives hang in the balance," he muttered.

"I know, but it has to be done. Just stay calm."

Colby said nothing, instead choosing to stare out the window at the broken down town. How do you tell a father his two sons might be dead? The two most precious things he had… the only immediate family he had left. There was a lump rising in his throat that he forced away. He would not cry. He would be strong for the father of his friends. He would vow that all would be done to help them.

Yet, he couldn't do any of it when he saw the old man's reaction. Alan Eppes merely sat stunned in his chair. He did not weep or run for his car or demand answers from them. All he did was stare blankly ahead and murmur questions to which Megan whispered answers. Colby felt helpless. So many times this scene played out before him, an officer telling someone their son or daughter had been killed. He himself told countless strangers they had lost their son or daughter or sibling or parent; telling someone he knew was so much harder.

_Charlie's PoV_

Charlie felt weak and light-headed. Don kept telling him to stay awake whenever he fell asleep for a few seconds, but he was very tired. He noticed that his brother was unusually worried about him.

"Whassamatter, Don?" he slurred through his weariness.

Don was silent for a few moments, something that was not a good sign (more often than not). After a minute that felt like an hour, he finally spoke.

"Your leg. You've been… been slowly losing blood since… since… you know. You've lost a lot of blood, Charlie. I just don't wanna lose you, buddy. Here-"

He unbuttoned his shirt and took out his knife. Charlie watched in a daze as Don cut his shirt into strips.

"This might hurt, Charlie," he whispered.

The young genius merely looked on curiously until Don actually touched his leg. He had to tie the strip of cloth around his leg; he cried out in pain. He grit his teeth again and tightly closed his eyes. He laid back down, panting heavily, fully awake. He heard rustling overhead and wondered if they were being saved at last, but Don just told him again, "This may hurt a little, buddy. Just bear with me, 'kay?"

He nodded quickly and squinted at Don. He was holding a fallen board and the strips of his shirt.

_ Great_, Charlie thought, _a tourniquet and a makeshift splint… and nothing to make it less painful. Why?_

He heard Don apologise for what he was about to do. The next thing he knew he was in immense pain. He kept his screams inside until Don touched the very tender spot over the break, and he screamed even louder when he tightened the tie. The next few hurt worse because of the pain. He barely heard an "All done, buddy," through his cloud of pain and fell back, breathing as though he'd run a marathon. He tried to calculate all the places of pi he knew, but kept messing up after 3.1415926535898 because of his leg; nothing worked.

"I'm sorry, buddy, but it had to be done. You'll thank me later, I promise. Here, Chuck-"

Don reached out and took his hand. Charlie squeezed it until he thought it would break.

"Don't worry, bud. I'm here. It's okay. It's okay, calm down."

Charlie still panted as he squeezed his hand.

_Don's PoV_

He hated the fact that had to hurt his little brother, but he'd been running out of options. He watched sadly as the genius's chest rose and fell frantically. Charlie was almost crushing his hand, but it didn't bother him. Don knew that at least if Charlie was squeezing the life out of his hand, he was still alive. That was all that was keeping him going. He let his other hand be drawn to the dark curls, do one of the few things that comforted Charlie.

_ I'm sorry, Charlie_, he thought as he stroked the curls, _I'm so sorry._

Charlie looked pale, even in the darkness, white as paper.

_ I'm sorry I got you into this…_

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**_Just to let you know, I originally cut the chapters in different places, but then I decided that this way would be better. Sorry for how short it is..._**

**_P.S. If the spelling of some words is British,don't mind it. I was born and raised in the good ol USA, but I just like the British spellings of certain words. _**


	3. Asleep or Dead?

_**Disclaimer: see Chp. 1**_

**_I still don't know what kind of car they drive, so if you know, tell me. Also, if anyone seems slightly OOC, me so sorry. I love you. Don't hurt me!_**

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_Don's PoV_

Don quickly turned on the flashlight to check his watch. Twelve hours. He and Charlie had been down there for twelve hours. He still had a tight grip on Charlie's hand, but he was tired, so tired. He looked over at his brother.

_ Why am I laying down?_

Charlie's chest wasn't visibly rising and falling. His face was turned toward Don. He looked so peaceful, his brows unknitted, his eyelids still. Not a sound came out of him. Yet Don just looked at him curiously. He knew what might happen to the two of them, yet he was unafraid. He wasn't even sure if Charlie was asleep or dead, yet he was unafraid. His mind was blank as he drifted to unconsciousness.

_Colby's PoV_

Colby was extremely worried. Dogs had been brought in to sniff them out, but they hadn't found them yet.

"If they were under a lot of debris, it could take the dogs longer," the handler said.

"It's already been eight hours!" Colby snapped, "And that's just since _you_ got here!"

"Calm down," Megan said quietly, resting a hand on his arm.

He pulled his arm away from her and walked away toward the Expeditions. Tears stung his eyes, his eyes throat burned, but, for the first time in a while, he didn't care. Colby climbed into the back of the nearest SUV, taking deep breaths that weren't helping. If Don were here, looking for someone, he would attack it with all he had. Charlie… he would come up with some equation to help find the people.

_ But they're not here_, he thought sadly, letting a tear roll down his cheek, _They're the ones who are trapped. They can't do anything to help._

There was a sudden knock on the window that made him jump. David had come to find him. Colby heard a muffled, "You alright, man?" from outside and responded, "Yeah, it's cool," in a voice that was steadier than he would've expected; it rather surprised him.

"Well, hurry up. They think they found them."

Colby checked himself in the mirror. You couldn't really tell he'd been crying, so he flung open the door, almost hitting David. If they found Don and Charlie, he'd be there for them.

"We've got 'em!" someone shouted.

He sprinted to the site as fast as he could. Looking down into the hole, he almost cried again. Don only wore his suit jacket over his bare chest, the shirt having been made into a makeshift tourniquet and splint; an old board was used to keep his leg as straight as possible. Charlie looked awful. He was deathly pale, his legs covered in blood, his hand clenched tightly in Don's. Colby climbed into the hole and pressed his fingers to Don's neck in search of a pulse, sighing in relief when he found one. Then he moved on to Charlie.

_ Please, God,_ he thought as he searched for a pulse, _don't take the Whiz Kid._

He was near frantic when he finally found a light pulse. He shouted for a medic, then remembered he wasn't in a war. Colby felt a hand on his back and was surprised to find Mr. Eppes. He looked as though he were on the verge of tears, yet he was even more composed than Colby.

"Come on," he said, "The paramedics are coming. They'll be fine. You've done good. They'll want to thank you. Here… help an old man out of this hole."

"You don't wanna be with Don and Charlie until the medics come?" he asked.

Alan just smiled.

"Maybe that's a good idea. Why don't you wait for Larry and Amita. I called them."

Colby nodded and climbed out of the hole; someone stuck a hand in his face. His eyes followed the arm to the owner's face to find David smiling down at him. He grabbed the fellow agent's hand, thankful for the help. He heard a car pull up as he brushed himself off. Larry and Amita climbed out of Larry's car and accosted the three agents with questions about Charlie and Don

"Don't worry," Colby said, "They're both alive. Checked 'em myself. They're unconscious, but they're alive."

Both were on the verge of tears as the paramedics showed up. They gasped a few minutes later when Charlie was pulled out on a stretcher, his pantleg all bloodied. Don followed on a second stretcher, and Alan came up last aided by two EMTs. Alan climbed into the ambulance with his youngest son, and Megan rode with Don. Amita rode with Larry; Colby and David each took an Expedition to the hospital.

Once there, the agonizing wait began.

_Don's PoV_

Don awoke very slowly. His mind was in a fog, but he knew (somehow) that he was in a hospital because of the familiar, steady beeping of various machines and monitors. Don opened his eyes but shut them quickly; it was very bright in the room. He opened his eyes very slowly, linking heavily. Someone touched his hand gently. He really couldn't see or tell who was there beside him.

"Donnie… Donnie, come on. Open your eyes. It's okay."

_ That voice. I know that voice. Whose is that voice? Who…_

"Come on. Look at me, son."

_ Dad…_

He wasn't sure if he said the word or merely thought it, but his father squeezed his hand tightly. Once he could see properly, he looked around the white room. It contained only two other people: his father and Charlie. Alan Eppes looked very tired.

"How long have I been here?" he rasped.

"About a day or so. They fixed up your shoulder better."

Don just gave a quick nod and looked over to Charlie. He thought it odd that lying in a hospital bed with tubes sticking in him was the most peaceful Charlie ever looked. His constantly furrowed brow was smooth, the ever present worry lines absent. From the knee down, his left leg was in a cast. One IV was sending a steady stream of blood into his arm, the other presumably feeding him morphine or some other drug.

"He's been in here longer than you. I'm getting a little worried now."

"Where is everyone? My team, I mean," Don asked croakily.

"At work. Trying to find the man who did this to you and your brother. They said this guy found out that you were gonna be there and set that thing up for you. They'll come and visit. Don't worry," Alan replied, "I'm going to sit with Charlie, now that I know you're awake."

He gave Don's hand quick squeeze before leaving. A nurse came in a few moments later and fussed over him, asking about his shoulder and if he was hungry. He turned on the T.V. and went to the bathroom, but Alan never left the youngest Eppes's side. He refused until Don told him to go eat.

"Come on, Pop. I can hear your stomach rumble from over here. Go eat. I'll sit with Charlie. Just go."

Alan protested for several minutes before actually leaving. Don sat in the chair and turned on the T.V. to watch the baseball game. It was later than he thought. By the time Alan got back, it was after sunset. He got another chair and sat beside his two sons. It continued to get darker and later, and Alan fell asleep. Don remained awake for time, not even realising he had Charlie's hand.

_Charlie's PoV_

_ Where am I? _Charlie thought as he woke up.

He knew he was awake, but he didn't open his eyes. His mind was terribly foggy for some reason. When he tried to open them, he found they were too heavy. However, someone squeezed his hand, urged him to open his eyes. Charlie forced his eyelids open. His vision was horribly blurred. The person next to him squeezed his hand again and spoke him, but Charlie really couldn't understand them. He felt the person's other hand on his head, stroking his hair. He was thirsty; his mouth felt dry as cotton.

"Wherem' I?" he slurred, "Wha'appened?"

"You're in the hospital," the man whispered, "Don't worry, bud. I'm here."

_ Whose voice is that? I know that voice. So familiar…_

His vision began to clear.

_ Don…_

He pushed himself up with difficulty and put his arms around Don's neck, their cheeks pressed together. A tear fell; they weren't sure whose it was, but it set both men off. Tears fell from the brothers' eyes.

"It's okay, Charlie. It's okay, I'm here. Don't worry. I'm here."

Charlie could only sniffle and hold his brother.

_ Donnie…_

_**The End**_

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**_I know you're all complaining about the fact that Don just woke up and is walking around... but he's a fighter. And he's pretty stubborn. He'll do as he pleases in my stories. :) To those who keep telling me that Charlie's a wuss... YOU WOULD BE TOO IF YOU BROKE YOUR LEG LIKE THAT AND THOUGHT YOU WOULD DIE!!!!! clears throat Anyway, thanks for reading! Contact me if you have any quarrels with the medical aspect. (I might reply.) Bye-bye!_**


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